


the flickering bedside lamp

by Star_less



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bedtime Stories, Complete, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Avengers, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gen, I guess???, Infantilism, Inspired by Avengers: Endgame, IronDad & SpideySon, Irondad, Kid Peter Parker, Not Canon Compliant, One Shot, Parent Tony Stark, Peter likes Harry Potter; fight me, Post-Avengers (2012), Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Sleepy Peter Parker, Team as Family, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, spideyson, very minor tiny endgame spoiler????
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-15 17:52:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18674581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_less/pseuds/Star_less
Summary: “So.” He piped at the smaller boy, who was scrunched up tight next to him. “What do you want me to read? Spanish homework? Quantum physics? Oh, kiddo. Please,pleasedon’t tell me you’re making me read yourhomeworkto you.”Feeling a little out of sorts, Peter asks Mr. Stark to read him a bedtime story before bed. Mr. Stark happily complies, if only because the softly-spoken British voice in the back of his head is telling him to.





	the flickering bedside lamp

**Author's Note:**

> ****DISCLAIMER** this fic is INSPIRED BY a scene in Endgame although there are *NO* major spoilers (basically I stole a line from endgame lol) so if you HAVEN'T seen Endgame and you don't wanna read this as a result click back!!!**
> 
>  
> 
> I also write Peter as a tiiiiiny bit younger than he actually is hence the infantilism tag! 
> 
> enjoy :-)

“Mr. Stark?”  
Peter clutched the hard-backed book tightly - like it was a piece of stolen treasure - with both clammy hands as he peered gingerly into the laboratory. JARVIS had granted him access to Stark’s ever-so-elusive lab easily, although something… something didn’t feel quite right. He… almost felt silly for what he was going to ask of his mentor – and something within him stirred, spurring him on gently to turn on his heel and run away. With silence settling around him, the young teenager twisted on the spot and was about to give in to those urges, when –

“Pete? How’s it goin’, kiddo?”

Ah. Mr. Stark saved the day once again. 

Coming to a thoughtful stop, Tony ran his eyes over the boy and found he couldn’t help but smile even as Peter offered him the owlish ‘rabbit in headlights’ expression that he seemed to have nailed down.  
He had ducked into the bathroom to drain the tank only for JARVIS to helpfully inform him that Peter was on the hunt for him, when he was a few milliseconds away from relaxing entirely. He must’ve forgotten (in that dreamy piss-free haze that only Tony knew of, that was brought on by a decent few hours of, erm, ignoring his body) to tell JARVIS to inform Peter that he’d only be a minute or two, judging by the look on the kid’s face. Plus, he was in pajamas. Pajamas patterned with the God of Thunder’s annoyingly perfect mug and matching glittery Mjolnirs. Pajamas that Stark had gifted him for his first real night as an Avenger… pajamas that Peter had promptly fallen so hard in love with that he refused to take them off for a different pair until Tony produced an Iron Man set instead. These pajamas were a tiny bit too long on the legs and pooled at Peter’s feet, but he seemed not to worry. Still, it was creeping ever closer to the boy’s bedtime, and Stark was more than a bit concerned to see Peter in this state.

“I…”

Peter looked down at the book in his hand and nervously rubbed at it with his thumb. Suddenly, asking Mr. Stark… what he was going to ask him… made him feel all hot and embarrassed. It was just… well… Clint had shown him this gory scary movie a few nights ago, and ever since then his sleep had been plagued by nightmares – nightmares where May was hurt, when Ned was hurt, where Mr. Stark was hurt – where they were hurt by something bigger and scarier than the Vulture, something that Peter couldn’t stop. Steve had suggested that perhaps Peter have a calmer bedtime routine instead, a routine that involved a cup of something warm and a bedtime story; and Peter had adapted to this new routine embarrassingly easily. But… but he suddenly felt as though he had been bothering Mr. Rogers so much that he felt obligated to give the supersoldier a break.  
But… but somehow, asking Mr. Stark was even worse. Mr. Stark probably had loads of important calls to make, or gadgets to design, or meetings to attend. Peter was sure he would never have the time to read him a bedtime story – in fact, he would probably laugh Peter out of the room.  
“A- actually, it’s.. it’s nothing, never mind.” Peter reassured quickly, heat rising in his cheeks as he backed away, shaking his head as he went. He did not want to be laughed at.

Unfortunately for Peter, Tony didn’t want to be lied to, either. He advanced on Peter slowly, brow quirking up in concern. “…No, kid, I don’t want to have to get JARVIS to scan you. What’s going on, hmm?”

It was late. It was late -- past Peter’s bedtime, anyway; he didn’t think Stark ever slept. But it was late and Peter was so tired he wasn’t thinking straight – that was his excuse. “Mr. Stark, I, um.. canyoureadmeabedtimestory?”  
He was glad for the darkness of Stark’s quarters for his cheeks had managed to ignite and make his eyes glint with embarrassed tears all in one. He took a few deep breaths. “It’s… it’s okay if not, you know?”

“You want me to read you a bedtime story?” Tony repeated, in disbelief. Honestly, he would’ve thought he was the last person for the job. A job that Stark thought was much more suited to Steve, who seemed to charm kids over with a soft coo in his voice almost instantly. Peter was reading all the wrong signals and even as Stark crept closer to him he was backing away, eyes crinkling, head shaking something chronic as if Stark was about to do something awful to him, not something as simple as reading him a bedtime story.

“You, you don’t have to, it’s okay, I know I’m grown up enough to read by myself…” Peter stammered, shuffling backwards.  
…But he wasn’t looking where he was going in his quest to get away from Tony and nearly took a misstep to fall backwards down the closest flight of stairs – saved only by Tony’s lightning quick reflexes yanking him up by the scruff. This scare – as minor as it was – took all of the breath out of Peter’s body. He gulped for breaths for a few minutes and tried to calm himself, clinging to Tony’s shirt with one hand and rubbing his belly with the other in an attempt to coax some not-so-shaky breaths into his lungs. All the while Tony held him, stroking long fingers through his hair. The billionaire watched and listened silently for Peter’s breaths to even out before speaking. “I would love to read you a bedtime story, kid. Not promising I’ll be good at it. Certainly not as good as Steve. But I’ll try. Not here – let’s go and find someplace cosy to rest up, hm?”

‘Someplace cosy’ was apparently Tony’s bed, Pepper delegated to the guestroom (which Peter was intensely guilty for although one glance to his owlish baby browns and Pepper was won over in an instant) with the two sandwiched side by side and Peter’s book, closed, on his lap.

Tony couldn’t remember the last time he had ever read a bedtime story. Hell, Tony could barely remember being read any bedtime stories unless he reached so far back into his memory he could vaguely recall a soft British accent reciting Winnie the Pooh tales. “So.” He piped at the smaller boy, who was scrunched up tight next to him. “What do you want me to read? Spanish homework? Quantum physics? Oh, kiddo. Please, _please_ don’t tell me you’re making me read your _homework_ to you.”  
He eyed the book Peter was holding in his hands with a sudden wariness and Peter blanched, even though he knew he really wasn’t asking Stark to read him his schoolwork. Maybe… maybe Mr. Stark wouldn’t even like the bedtime story he had chosen…? He hesitated and looked around, as if maybe he was re-thinking the entire scenario. Mr. Stark seemed not to notice his wariness. “Bedtime story from the top of my head?” Tony offered brightly. “Uhh, there once was a little boy, and he went to bed. The end!” He beamed. 

Peter giggled. His eyelids were already heavy looking. “I’m not _little_!” he protested in a splutter, staring at his beloved mentor through long lashes. “’N tha’s not a real story, Mr. Stark.”

“Oh?” Tony raised his brows, amusement etched into every feature. “What is a ‘real story’, Mr. Parker?”

Peter sleepily pointed to the book on the bed. “That.”

Picking up the book and opening it to the first page, Tony cleared his throat. It was awkward for just a moment, before he slowly began to speak. “…Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much…”  
Peter smiled to himself and ducked under the covers so he could listen. He had read this story so often that he was sure he could recite it word for word already; but there was something so magical about having Mr. Stark read it to him. Not that Peter had never been read a bedtime story – of course he had – but this felt… different somehow. The last time he read with May he was tiny and he barely remembered it. When he read with Steve, Steve’s voice was slow and careful because sometimes he was taking in an entirely new story—an entirely new world-- that he hadn’t read before; perfect for falling asleep to. But Mr. Stark…? Mr. Stark really was magical. Like Steve, his voice came out slow and knitted with tiredness, as if the story was transporting him to sleep as much as it was Peter – but when he grumbled out a Hagrid voice or squeaked out a Mrs. Weasley it filled Peter’s tummy with warmth and forced a smile to tickle at the corners of his lips. He blinked to himself, trying to keep himself awake long enough to hear about Harry getting onto the Hogwarts Express for the first time—or, hell, long enough to wish Mr. Stark goodnight… but this was a task that proved juuuuust a little too difficult for Peter’s tired body. His lips parted and he hummed softly, drifting into dreamland to the sound of Tony’s voice nudging him through Hogwarts.

It took Tony an embarrassingly long time to realise that Peter had stopped giggling and wriggling beside him and when he had it was obvious that the child had crashed some time ago. Chuckling softly to himself Tony looked down to the child with a small, fond smile finding its way to his lips before he could whip it away. Tony marked where he had reached in their story (making a mental reminder to himself that perhaps he should begin reading before bed rather than staying holed up in his lab whiling away the night hours because… jeez, he was pooped) and (making sure nobody was looking) brushed Peter’s fringe out of his face just enough for him to press a tiny kiss to his forehead. “Sleep good, kid.” He murmured, smiling and shifting in the bedsheets to join the child in sleep. “Don’t you worry. I’ll read you all the bedtime stories you want.”

He flicked out the bedside lamp.

**Author's Note:**

> I have never read a Harry Potter book in my LIFE but I imagine Peter would love them :)
> 
> comments & kudos appreciated but not necessary!!!
> 
> I was writing this before endgame happened but I saw That and I was inspired to finish 
> 
> x x


End file.
